In Need of Rescue
by artemis-nz
Summary: From time to time, even the strongest find themselves in need of rescue. Conrad/Yuuri.


The icicles hung from the trees in sharp points, making the place look even harsher amid all that white. The ground was blanketed in a sea of snow, and although the wind blew by, whistling its mournful tune for any unfortunate enough to hear it clearly, the world felt eerily silent. If His Majesty the twenty-seventh Maou of Shin Makoku Yuuri Shibuya had been in the mood, he might have been tempted to describe the landscape as being one of a fragile though deadly beauty. As it was however, he was far too busy shivering to bother with anything of the sort.

He looked around carefully, noting that nothing marked the bright carpet stretching out around him - no footprints, no turned up bits of snow, nothing to mar the whiteness of his surroundings.

In short, he was completely alone.

It took only a moment to register all of this, and another moment to realize the unpleasantness of the situation. He stepped out of the round pool, looking at the place where he had surfaced. There was a thin layer of ice around the patch where he had unceremoniously arrived; Yuuri tried not to think about what might have happened had the ice been thicker. Meanwhile, his dark clothing was soaked through and still dripping. His shoes squelched as he stepped down and he thought he could already see more icicles forming from the rivulets at his feet. The breeze was not strong, but it cut him to the bone where he stood, wondering what to do. The shrine stood as silent as the rest of the surroundings, and Yuuri saw that the heavy doors were closed. Something told him that he could expect no help from that quarter.

While the desire to simply curl up and conserve whatever heat he had left in his body was strong, common sense told the young Maou that he should keep moving. The castle was not to terribly far away, he told himself; a short walk only, and then there would be warm fires and blankets and food... he took another step forward, and another, and began to move painfully slowly toward his destination.

Yuuri's feet very quickly grew heavy. It was harder to move now, and although both hands and feet were for the most part numb, his feet especially were becoming a problem. Acting on impulse, Yuuri knelt down and, with an effort, managed to pull off the cumbersome shoes, his socks soon following. His feet were interesting shades of blue and purple. Yuuri pushed on, his feet at least feeling lighter and making it easier to walk for a while.

It was too quiet - not one bird sang, and even the wind seemed to have died down. Or perhaps his ears were not working quite right; they were filled now with a high pitched buzzing, a bit like what happened when you listened to very loud music for too long, Yuuri mused. He tried to keep his thoughts away from the lonely task ahead of him and away from his legs which were now also becoming a difficulty. He attempted to remember what to do in case of being caught out in the extreme cold - he knew he had been instructed once - but couldn't recall, and thought about the people who he would see soon instead. Wolfram would no doubt slap him and call him a wimp, while his eyes would tell the real story. Gunter would fuss and perhaps talk non-stop to make up for the time that Yuuri had been away, and would probably be hard pressed to let Yuuri out of his sight for the next few days. Gwendal wouldn't say anything at all or even smile, except that his face might relax just a little Conrad...

"Conrad." He allowed himself to say the name, and pretend that he might be rescued again, just this one more time. Yuuri supposed that now he was fully used to living here among near constant danger, he should be too King-like to need rescuing. A ruler was meant to be strong, meant to save his people instead of being saved himself. Yet here he was once again, in need of a rescue. It had happened many times before, and for all his idealism Yuuri knew it would probably continue to happen. Through a great deal of those times it had been Conrad who had saved him, bringing him back safely home through all that chaos that was often his own fault anyway, acting recklessly and disregarding tradition. Still, Yuuri didn't think he was capable of being anything else. Strangely enough, he didn't want Conrad to be anything else either. He knew he was being selfish, but he didn't mind being rescued so very much; he only minded that Conrad might have better things to do with his time than, as Yozak had once cruelly (and accurately) put it, royal babysitting.

There was no shelter under the tree that Yuuri was finally forced to sit under, but he instinctively made himself walk the few more steps he needed before resting his back against the trunk. His throat hurt, and it was hard to catch his breath. He wanted to sleep. His eyes snapped open again a few seconds later, and Yuuri mentally reminded himself that above all, sleeping was the worst thing to do at the moment. He could rest later, he told himself, when he reached the castle. He could sleep all he wanted... but not now. Not until he made it. There couldn't be that far to go, he could do it. With these firm thoughts in mind, Yuuri struggled to his feet.

Either an hour or a few seconds passed, or perhaps it was somewhere in between before Yuuri fell, his feet refusing to take him any further. On his back, he looked up at the sky, only noticing now that it was darkening. It was dusk. The end of another day just like any other in Shin Makoku, except for a King that was not yet rescued. And it was possible that he would not be. Yuuri forced himself to face the truth of the situation. It was the middle of winter, and very soon it would be dark. Nobody in their right mind would be out and about at this time. Which meant that either he would need to do his own rescuing, or he would be stuck out in the open until the next day. Yuuri knew he would not survive that.

There were, he supposed, worse ways to die. He saw but didn't feel the snow beginning to fall very gently and without a sound, and thought that it at least was beautiful. It had haunted him for many nights before he had taught himself not to worry - that he would one day die on field of battle, perhaps with fallen comrades at his side. He was no soldier, but if there was a war he would be sure to be in the thick of it, he was sure. There would be blood and maybe fire, and the cries of the wounded, and the screaming of the innocents. He had wondered if he would scream, if the time ever came. Now it had, and there were no dying friends and no fire, no blood. He was grateful for that. He had never thought that he would die peacefully, unfeeling. If there was any pain, he was grateful he could not feel that either.

_Sorry Conrad_, he said in his mind. _I couldn't rescue myself._

Still, Yuuri made himself keep his eyes open a minute more. Giving up was not something he was comfortable with, in spite of not having that choice for much longer. He changed his mind about the screaming and yelling of battle - he could hear it in his mind. Maybe this was his soul, telling him not to sleep, to _hold on_ for just a bit more. Or maybe it was Julia, stronger than he was, calling his name with an urgency that made him stay awake even as his eyes closed. _Yuuri. _Too loud; it gave him a headache. _Yuuri!_

He wanted to sleep now, more than anything else. But the voice was persistent, and it was joined by other voices, a clamouring in his mind that vied for his attention, and ghost hands on his frozen face, lifting him up. It was a dream, a brief image that flashed in his mind, a pain, a voice, another mind, _don't go to sleep._

_Yuuri!_

He didn't open his eyes, couldn't move, suspended in the air or in water. He wondered if this was what it was like to drown.

"Yuuri!"

He knew the voice. "Conrad", he replied to the voice that must have been in his mind. Then his ears were suddenly working again because noise thundered mercilessly in, a torrent of unrelenting voices and scuffling and the wind roaring past.

"Try to stay awake!" he heard, the only noise among thousands of others that he could make out. It was too much all at once. Yuuri felt his body stiffen in protest before he fell back through that water. Soft darkness welcomed him; he knew no more.

* * *

He was dead, or he was dying. Awake, but only because this much pain ensured that he could not possibly sleep. His first thought was that there must have been a war for him to hurt so much. He must have been stabbed, and now he was dying for real. His eyes were closed so he couldn't see the blood or the fire, but he was sure they were there, as real as the screaming was.

_Yuuri! Its alright, I've got you!_

"Stop it!" he managed to say, teeth clenched. He would have preferred to die in the snow where there was no pain. And even in his dreams of death by sword, he had never imagined this, a pain that seared red-hot through his veins.

_I'm sorry, you must forgive me! _The pain didn't stop. It only grew, and Yuuri knew he was probably being a wimp but couldn't help screaming again.

_What's wrong, why is it hurting him so much!?_ Another voice, demanding, panicked.

_The blood circulation... we need to... causing immense pain._ This voice faded in and out as Yuuri concentrated, hoping to think about something else. He still wanted to sleep, wanted that soft darkness back where he could rest again. The hand stopped him, holding his own with an intensity that bound him to the physical. The pain continued and made him ache fiercely all over. Yuuri bit his tongue to stop himself screaming again, felt something dab at his chin to wipe the blood off. Doors were open and shut, people by his side, more talking that he couldn't make out, something warm trickling down his throat, his head held up. Yuuri accepted that he was neither dead nor dying and made himself relax, sensing it would help just a little.

_That's it, good Yuuri!_

Relief, both in the voice and in his mind even as he tried to suppress it. It could just be another dream, Conrad might not really be there, he could still be lying in the snow and dreaming, could be so far away that Yuuri would never see him again. He whimpered and the voice, mistaking the sound for more pain, squeezed his hand.

_Just a little longer_, the voice murmured.

Yuuri opened his eyes but saw nothing, blinded suddenly by the brightness. It could be snow... he told himself. It mightn't be real... Another flash of pain, not as strong now. Yuuri's body relaxed further. The hand that held on to his stayed where it was. Yuuri hoped it would still be there when he woke up again. He was sure he would wake up again...

_Should he sleep? What if-_

_He will_, interrupted the voice. _I have no doubt._

A pause. _Lord Weller is right. He'll be fine now that he's past this point._

Yuuri almost smiled before slipping away.

* * *

The sun crept through the window, breaking up the darkness that still clung to the outside world. The brightness made its way slowly onto the bed, traveling very gradually along. It rested a while behind a few clouds that had gathered, and when it reappeared again it had moved so that Yuuri's face was warmed, chasing away the last vestiges of the cold that lingered. The room was empty apart from one person, who quietly watched the sun's advance. He didn't move when Yuuri muttered something unintelligible in his sleep, not wanting to wake him up when he was looking so peaceful. As if the events of the previous day and night had never happened, as if His Majesty the twenty-seventh Maou of Shin Makoku Yuuri Shibuya had not nearly died. As if Conrad had never been afraid he would lose someone important to him; important enough to hurt in order to help keep alive. He never wanted to hear that screaming again, knowing it was his hands that caused it.

Yuuri said something else and Conrad watched his face, knowing that Yuuri would wake soon. Conrad had been content with keeping watch during the night, and had gone as far as to overrule his youngest brother. Gwendal had looked at Conrad and left the room without a word, almost dragging Wolfram along behind him. One by one the other occupants had followed, to sleep or pace or simply lie awake and wait for the dawn. Conrad was quite sure he was not the only one who hadn't slept last night - Yuuri was too well loved for that.

"Conrad."

It was a whisper. Conrad saw that Yuuri was still asleep although restless, probably now in the act of surfacing from sleep. Wolfram would be relieved, and wouldn't need to be told that slapping Yuuri was out of the question. Plenty of time for that later. Conrad got silently to his feet, feeling his legs stretch from the position they had been in for the last few hours. He was nearly at the door before Yuuri just as quietly opened his eyes.

"Don't go", he said. "Please", he added as Conrad looked down at him.

"As you wish, Your Majesty."

Yuuri shook his head wordlessly.

"Yuuri", Conrad amended. "How do you feel?"

"Okay. Weird. I thought I had died. But okay." It was an honest, Yuuri-like answer that made Conrad's smile widen.

"I'm glad", he replied. The simple words carried more weight than was usual.

"So I didn't die..." Yuuri seemed to be pondering this fact, testing it out to see what it sounded like out loud.

"No." Conrad watched Yuuri carefully. "I must be honest however. It came closer than anyone will care to admit."

Yuuri didn't answer, keeping his face impassive. For once, Conrad found him disturbingly hard to read.

"Your Majesty- Yuuri. I'm sorry."

"For what, Conrad?"

"For hurting you. It was I who caused you so much pain, when..." He trailed off, feeling the guilt flood back in full force. In spite of being for his own good he had caused Yuuri to suffer, more than Yuuri had ever suffered before. He lowered his head in a bow.

"Don't do that! Please don't bow to me. Don't ever..." To his horror, Yuuri found his voice becoming thick. He blinked quickly, hoping Conrad wouldn't notice. He was the _King_, he wasn't supposed to be so weak-

"Yuuri. Its alright, I promise its alright, Yuuri..."

The tears fell anyway, making Yuuri feel even younger. Conrad let him cry, looking out the window to allow Yuuri a tiny moment of privacy and only looking back when he sighed, finished.

"How close was I?" Yuuri asked then, catching Conrad by surprise.

"I- can't tell you that, Yuuri. I really don't know-

"How close? You do know... it was you in the snow, wasn't it? It was you who rescued me again, you who held my hand when it got too much. Tell me!"

His voice was not loud but held a note of near-hysteria. Conrad gripped the hand that reached for him and spoke in as calm a voice as possible. "Yes Yuuri, it was close. If you walked from the pool at the shrine and had gone to sleep a few minutes before we found you, you may have never woken up. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

Conrad had kept his tone gentle, but Yuuri turned his face away even so. The words stung, even though he had asked for them. Was he such a bad ruler, to be so weak as to come close to dying so easily? At least if there had been a war there would have been an excuse. Now there was only an accusation to face - not by Conrad, who was too kind to say so, but within himself. He was glad to be alive. But being alive meant you had to face up to your weaknesses. The thought made Yuuri feel weary to the bone, like he had walked for miles and miles through the snow instead of only a little way.

Conrad looked at Yuuri, worried at the long silence. The King finally turned his head to face Conrad's, but his eyes remained turned away. "You apologized to me before. But its me who should be apologizing. I couldn't make it back here alone. I needed rescuing, again. I've never rescued myself; there's always been someone there to do that for me. Gunter, or Gwendal, even Wolfram. You. I'm not a good ruler. I don't know how to rescue myself, let alone a country. So I'm sorry. I made everyone worry, and all because I gave up. In the end I couldn't rescue myself, not even when I came so close."

Conrad made his voice firm. "Look at me, Yuuri. You must not say such things - they are not true. Look at me!"

Yuuri's eyes darted to Conrad's face and were held there by his gaze. "Listen carefully. Nobody does things without help sometimes. It is both a job and a privilege to be by your side and help you when needed. No person, especially no King, does something hard without help from those who can offer it. The Great One himself did not bring peace without a great number of others who helped him along the way, even when he had no more strength of his own left to fight with. And you never gave up, not once. I saw how far you had come, how tired you must have been. Even then you never gave up until you had no other choice. You could have stopped earlier, but you didn't."

"But if I was a stronger person, I could still have made it-"

"-No. You are a very strong person, and a King like no other. If you had truly given up, you would not be speaking to me now. If you must have proof of your character, then know that you didn't just nearly die. You nearly died and are still here now. Strong enough to live, Yuuri. Never forget that."

"... Oh." He was still so tired, the warmth of the room making it harder to concentrate on what to think, how to feel, what to say. "Um, Conrad...? You'll still be here, if... when I wake up again?"

"Of course, Your Majesty." Conrad was instantly all soldier again.

"Its Yuuri..." he replied before closing his eyes, figuring that in this case it was okay to give up. He would wake again, Conrad had promised.

"Then sleep well, Yuuri", he heard Conrad say.

"Wait..." With an effort, Yuuri spoke. "How did you know I needed rescuing?"

"Ah. Just a feeling, which was acted upon at once when members of the Flying Bone Tribe started flying oddly overhead..."

But Yuuri was already snoring slightly. Conrad turned his head to the door. "You can come in now, if you want", he called softly. The door opened. People pretended that they hadn't been attempting to eavesdrop, and the day moved on just as usual. And through all the fuss and quiet drama going on at Yuuri's bedside, the King slept with a smile upon his face.


End file.
